


Nothing I Won't Give

by dragonimp



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Prostitution, M/M, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-14
Updated: 2009-07-14
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonimp/pseuds/dragonimp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Assuming this is true, just what could you offer me that could tempt me to halt an important investigation?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing I Won't Give

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fullmetal Alchemist Kink!meme

Ed took a breath, trying to steady himself. It was such a nondescript, innocent-looking door, but once he went through, there would be no backing out. If he was going to do this. . . .

He had to do this.

Scowling, Ed shoved the door open, then kicked it shut behind him. He glared at the man behind the desk, ignoring the way his heart was racing and willing his flesh hand to not shake.

Hakuro looked up from the paperwork with an expression of tolerant amusement. “Well. Major . . . Elric, is it? To what do I owe the . . . pleasure?”

“Cut the bullshit, General. You know why I’m here.”

“You give me far too much credit, Major—”

Ed crossed the few strides between them and slammed his hands down on the desk. “Enough with the _bullshit_ ,” he growled. “You’ve been poking around in my past—why? What do you want?”

The general stared down his nose at the teen. “Background checks are done on all state alchemists—”

“It’s _been_ done,” he snapped. “The Fuhrer signed off on it. There’s no reason for you to go poking around on your own—and no reason to make sure I found out about it—unless _you want something_.”

Hakuro pushed his chair back from the desk. His face was a careful mask of disdain, but Ed could see the shrewd calculation—and the heat—in his eyes. “Assuming this is true, just what could _you_ offer me that could tempt me to halt an important investigation?”

Ed scoffed, straightening. “I’m not an idiot. I hear things. I see things. You stop poking around where you shouldn’t, and I’ll give you . . . _me_.”

The older man gave him an amused smirk, but Ed hadn’t missed the flick of desire behind it. “If you’re offering to put in for a transfer, I’m not interested. I’ve no use for—”

Ed slammed his metal fist into the desk. “Enough _bullshit_!” He stepped in front of the desk, nearly straddling the general’s knees. “I’ve seen how you look at me. I hear things.” He leaned forward, his hands on the arm rests. “I’m offering you me—my body. For your . . . _pleasure_.” The word was acid on his tongue but he forced himself to spit it out.

No turning back.

Hakuro’s smile took on a lewd quality as he gripped the teen’s jaw, the fingers moving on his cheek a little too insistently to be a caress. “What are the limits?”

“That depends on what I get from it.”

“I can stop _my_ investigation, but that doesn’t mean others won’t get suspicious. There are rumors already.”

“You have influence.”

A thumb stroked over his lips, and Ed had to stop himself from biting it. “I can give you a few months. After that I might need a . . . _reminder_ . . . of why I’m making such an effort.”

“Six months.”

“That’s an awfully long time. Someone might wonder.”

“Six months and you can do what you want with me—so long as you don’t leave marks.” He sneered. “Wouldn’t want to make anyone _suspicious_ , I’m sure.”

The hand on his jaw tightened. “Six months if I get you for the rest of the afternoon—or an equivalent amount of time.”

“Fine.”

Hakuro grinned in a way that made Ed’s stomach turn sour. He pushed him back and stood, giving his jaw one last caress, then moved to the door and secured the lock.

The snick of the deadbolt made Ed flinch. His bravado was a flimsy shield, and he knew it; but if anyone in the military found out about what they’d done, Al would be hauled off to a lab and dissected, and he’d be thrown in jail—or executed. To protect his brother, to have a chance of undoing his mistake, he had to do this—even if the thought alone made him ill.

Ed glared as Hakuro sized him up from across the room. If the man thought he was going to take any initiative in this he was sadly mistaken.

“Undress.”

Ed snorted as he dropped his coat from his shoulders. Straight to the point. Not beating around the bush actually made him feel a bit better; or at least, less bad.

His jacket followed the coat, then he toed off his boots. The undershirt joined the pile next. Hakuro followed his movements like a hunter stalking prey. When he unfastened his pants and pushed the leather down to his thighs, the older man’s expression was pure hunger.

“Stop.”

He froze half-crouched, looking up in annoyance.

“Slowly.”

Ed snarled, but obeyed; that was their arrangement, after all. He slid the leather down inch by inch, feeling more than a little ridiculous. Finally he stepped out of the pants and kicked them aside, then followed with his underwear, with the same irritating slowness.

Fully exposed and face burning, he straightened, squashing the urge to cover himself back up. Instead he glared back defiantly as the general’s eyes raked over his body. He seemed to be taking in every inch of flesh and metal, every scar, every bolt.

Hakuro jerked a nod at Ed’s arm. “Remove it. The automail.”

Ed sucked his breath in with a hiss. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

Hakuro studied him, cool calculation beneath the heat. “Eight months.”

Ed gripped his arm, narrowing his eyes. “Ten. Or it won’t be worth the reattachment.”

The man gave him a curt nod. Ed surreptitiously sucked in a steadying breath and wrapped his fingers around the metal—and before he could lose his nerve, he triggered the catch.

The general eyed him with a slimy, smug smile as Ed dropped his arm on top of the pile of clothes. The teen concentrated on breathing evenly as the eyes roved over him again, suppressing a shutter as the man’s calculating gaze lingered on his leg.

“Remove the leg, and I’ll make it twelve,” he purred. “A full year.”

Clenching his jaw, Ed weighed the thought of making himself vulnerable, practically helpless, against a year of not having to worry, a full year of freedom before he had to think about doing— _this_ —again. Heart pounding, he slid his sweaty hand down his thigh, over the port—and pressed the catch.

He leaned back against the desk, pressing his hand against the wood to keep it from trembling, and forced himself to meet the predator’s eyes. Hakuro took several steps toward him, slowly, deliberately, until less than two feet separated them. Then he smiled—and there was nothing cheerful or friendly about the expression.

“Do you even know what you’ve agreed to, my pretty doll?”

Ed scowled, and opened his mouth to retort—and instead cried out in alarm as Hakuro grabbed his arm and yanked him forward. He stumbled and fell as the man took several steps back, and was pulled up by his arm.

Hakuro was holding him too high for him to get proper footing, letting nothing more than the ball of his foot touch the floor. Ed twisted and squirmed, ineffectual without proper leverage or grip.

The general’s other hand grabbed his jaw, then slid back to his neck, holding him still and forcing him to meet his eyes. “Scared, little boy? Does your first taste of the adult world _frighten_ you?”

Ed snarled. “Weasels like you don’t frighten me.”

“Liar.” He sneered down at his captive. “I can feel your pulse, boy. You’re _terrified_.”

Just like that, the thin veil of his bravado was torn away. Feeling more exposed than ever before, Ed stared back as his face heated up, unsure how to respond. It _excited_ the older man, he realized. The sick bastard got off on power.

Hakuro leaned in and took his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it roughly before sucking on it.

“ _Nn_. . . .” Ed had the strongest desire to tear his mouth away, to tear himself away completely and run. But that was an impossibility now; it had become an impossibility the moment he’d walked through the door.

“No _marks_ , remember?” he spat once the older man had released his lip. “You can’t mark me.”

The general’s only response was to scoff, and plunge his tongue into his captive’s mouth.

Ed gagged and jerked back, only to choke when the grip on his neck tightened. As tempting as it was, he knew that biting would be a really bad idea, so he grimaced and passively let the slimy foreign object probe his mouth.

Hakuro straightened, smirking as he ran a finger through the saliva on Ed’s chin. “You’re getting the idea.” He laughed at the teen’s snarl. “Rage all you want.” The hand trailed down his throat and Ed swallowed reflexively, and the older man grinned. “Oh, yes, I can taste your fear, boy. Your rage gives it away.”

He clenched his jaw and clamped down on both anger and fear, not willing to give his captor anything more than necessary.

Ed cried out in startled pain as his nipple was pinched and twisted. He jerked back but the fingers only twisted again, grinding the sensitive nub between them.

“Like that?”

“ _Fuck_ you.”

Ed squirmed again as the fingers released his throbbing nipple and skimmed down his stomach.

“Our deal was that I could do what I want,” Hakuro reminded him with a smirk. “That implicitly includes causing pain.”

The hand suddenly wrapped around his cock, and Ed froze.

“But it doesn’t _have_ to be that way, little doll,” the general purred, stroking the limp organ. “I could make sure you enjoy it—I could _require_ you to enjoy it.”

Ed closed his eyes as his flaccid sex was pulled and rubbed, willing his uncooperative body to respond. If he imagined it was someone different touching him, someone who didn’t disgust him so much, them maybe, maybe—

He gasped and jerked as his balls were squeezed, none too gently. His eyes flew open to find Hakuro leering down at him. Ed winced, biting his lip as his testicles were pressed up and roughly manhandled in a cruel mockery of a lover’s touch.

“Bite your lip too hard, and you’ll mark yourself.”

Without warning, his genitals were released and his arm lowered. His leg buckled, and he found himself on his knees—or rather, knee—staring at the older man’s bulging crotch.

Ed took several shaky breaths, trying to brace himself for what he knew was coming, as he watched the general unfasten his fly and work his cock free. At least this was something he’d anticipated happening, although that was a cold comfort now.

Hakuro pushed the clothing aside and gripped himself at the base, his cock an angry, blotchy red. “Suck it,” he ordered. He even _gestured_ with the thing, as if Ed could mistake his meaning. “And keep your teeth to yourself.”

Ed rose awkwardly onto his knee and stump, wobbling without the aid of his arms to balance—he refused to lean against the grip on his wrist. Impatient, the general yanked him up, which only upset what little balance he’d managed to gain. He fell against the man’s legs, his face inches from the dripping shaft he was supposed to be ministering to.

With an irritated grunt, Hakuro grabbed his hair and yanked him into position. Ed winced, both at his hair being pulled and the bruising grip on his arm; so much for not being marked. But he obediently opened his mouth for the organ in front of him. He had agreed, after all.

Hakuro held him in place until he was relatively stable, then moved his hand back to his cock, guiding it into the teen’s waiting mouth. Ed grimaced as the bitter taste and the slimy texture hit his tongue, and the man chuckled. “Get used to it, boy. Now mind your teeth.”

He was just figuring out to wrap his lips over his teeth when the cock jolted forward. He gagged and jerked back, but Hakuro had snagged his hair again. Instinctive panic took over for a moment and he thrashed, trying to escape this _thing_ that threatened to choke him; but then he forced himself to keep still, forced his jaw to relax and forced down his gag reflex, as the man above him laughed and tried to shove his dick down his throat. Ed screwed his eyes shut and concentrated on breathing.

Suddenly his mouth was empty. He gagged and coughed, gasped and coughed again, wishing for some way to get rid of the taste.

“I should make you swallow,” the general panted. Ed blinked his eyes open, staring blankly at the glistening erection. “But I’m not as young as I used to be, and I have something else in mind.”

Hakuro hauled him up by the arm and then took his chin, leering down at him while Ed glared. “As much as I’d like to see you with cum on your lips, we’ll have to save that for later.” He licked at the saliva and precum that had dribbled down the teen’s chin as Ed made a disgusted noise and tried to turn away. The futile struggles only served to amuse his captor.

The general released his chin, only to wrap an arm around his back and lift him from the floor completely. Ed found himself held to the older man’s chest the way someone might carry a child, a parody of affection called out by the erection sliding against his hip.

The young man swallowed, trying to force his stomach back down from his throat; he knew what was coming next. He’d told himself it wouldn’t matter, that it’d be just one more item on a long list of pain and discomfort he’d had to endure, but his insides weren’t listening.

Ed was set on the desk and immediately shoved onto his back. His head smacked against the wood and he yelped, more from anger than pain. “What the _fuck_?”

Hakuro smirked down at him. “Gentle treatment was never part of the agreement. Or are you telling me the great Fullmetal Alchemist can’t handle a few bumps?”

Ed only glared.

The general then had the audacity to pat the top of his head, like he was some favored dog. “Now be a good boy and stay put.”

Ed snarled, but obeyed. Although if he was to be honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if he was raging more at Hakuro or his own helplessness.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as the older man cleared off half of the desk. It seemed so absurd to be worrying about something like paperwork at a time like this.

A glint of gold caught his attention and he turned. Facing him was a framed portrait of a matronly woman and two small children. The cheerful, warm image was so incongruous with the man in the room that his mind couldn’t reconcile the two.

The snap of a drawer jolted his attention back to the man in question. Hakuro was busy squeezing a generous amount of lotion onto the fingers of his left hand, lascivious gaze raking over the offering on his desk, and Ed’s stomach twisted.

The general positioned himself in front of the teen, placing his palms on knee and automail port. He pushed at the young man’s thighs, slowly parting them. Ed’s muscles twitched with the desire to kick, or pull back, or at the very least to snap his legs back together, but he forced himself to stay spread, forced himself not to flinch away as one of those hands ghosted up his body, brushing against his sore genitals and flicking over an abused nipple, to caress his cheek and jaw. The touch was mocking in its gentleness.

The hand clamped around his neck and Ed gasped, his own hand flying up to pry at the fingers. The older man’s grip was surprisingly strong.

“Where’s your legendary confidence now, boy?” Hakuro sneered.

Fingers were prodding between his legs, and he reflexively tried to twitch his hips away. Hakuro shook him against the desk, just hard enough to be a warning. Ed choked, clawing at the hand on his neck.

“Not so cocky when things slide out of your control, are you?”

A finger rammed past his anus and he cried out, back arching and hips squirming, fighting for purchase against the polished surface of the desk. The general tightened his grip and shook him again.

Ed went limp, gasping. His air wasn’t being cut off, but it was close.

“Remember this feeling, little doll,” Hakuro said, as he shoved a second finger inside. “This is how it feels to be in another person’s power.” He pulled the fingers out, and slammed them back in, and Ed’s entire body flinched. “Get used to it.”

He thrust the fingers a few more times, then spread and wiggled them, working against the teen’s resisting muscles. Ed twitched and flinched. Part of him realized that this would hurt less if he wasn’t so tense, but his body refused to relax.

After twisting and thrusting his fingers a few more times, Hakuro pulled them out, letting go of his captive’s neck to grab his shoulder and hip. Ed was flipped onto his stomach, and pulled back, until his pelvis was hanging off the edge of the desk.

The general grasped him by the hips, his thumbs hooking around to spread his cheeks. Ed cringed at the delighted sound that came from the man behind him, even before his hips were lifted and something thicker than fingers nudged at his anus.

After verifying that he was properly aligned, Hakuro pushed in with a long, steady thrust, until his hips were flush with the ass he was violating, the edges of his fly rough against bare skin.

Ed bit down on his cries, so that only a strangled whine escaped past his teeth.

“Nice and tight,” the general moaned, while Ed futilely tried to calm his spasming muscles. “You’re a good little doll.”

Ed gripped the edge of the desk and clenched his teeth, determined to weather this without giving the son-of-a-bitch the satisfaction of making him cry out. He may have given this man his body, but he still kept his pride.

Hakuro seemed more focused now on thrusting his way to an orgasm than with tormenting his new sex toy. Ed found that the sharp, rhythmic assault on his bowels was painful, but bearable. Before long the man was grunting, and then, with a last, animalistic groan, he stuttered to a halt.

Teeth still gritted, Ed counted the seconds he had to put up with the now-limp cock in his ass while the general caught his breath. when he got to eight, the man finally collected himself and pulled back.

“That will do—for now.”

Without any further warning, he was dropped.

His leg buckled as soon as his foot hit the floor, and his sweaty fingers slipped off the desk. Ed found himself sliding into an ungainly heap, crumpled next to his discarded clothes and metal limbs.

The young man pushed himself up with a shaking arm, until he could lean against the side of the desk, with his weight on his hip and thigh. Behind him, he could hear Hakuro cleaning himself up and straightening his uniform.

“Per our agreement, I have you for another . . . two hours, forty minutes.” As he spoke, the general moved to the desk. Paper rustled. “Unfortunately, I have commitments that cannot be ignored. In light of that, I will defer the rest of our . . . _meeting_ . . . until this evening.”

A scrap of paper entered his field of vision. Ed reached up and took it, staring at the ink without comprehension.

“Report to that address at eighteen-hundred hours. Be prompt.”

Papers rustled. A drawer opened, and closed. A chair scraped against the floor. And then footsteps, retreating toward the door.

“Clean yourself up, put yourself back together, and go.” His tone was dismissive. The boy huddled on the floor by his desk no longer held his interest. “I’ll need my office in half an hour.”

Once the door had shut, Ed looked down at the note, forcing the address past the thick cotton that seemed to have taken root in his brain. He closed his eyes.

It had hurt. It still hurt. He had known it would hurt. Objectively, the pain wasn’t anywhere near the trauma of double automail surgery. It couldn’t even compare to the pain of reattachment, something he was going to have to face in the next few minutes. The pain was barely that of a bad fight. He’d shaken off worse without even slowing down.

So why did he feel so wrung out and hollow?


End file.
